


Decision Point

by glowingbutterfly



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ambiguous Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Final Fantasy XIV: Heavensward Spoilers, Final Fantasy XIV: Stormblood Spoilers, Zenos yae Galvus's Battle Boner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:42:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27990939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glowingbutterfly/pseuds/glowingbutterfly
Summary: In which the Warrior of Light defects to Garlemald, and both sides attempt to process the abrupt development.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4
Collections: Final Fantasy XIV Gift Exchange 2020





	Decision Point

**Author's Note:**

  * For [malachibi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/malachibi/gifts).



> I hope you enjoy this, Malachibi, even if it's a tad short!

Even Zenos yae Galvus himself had trouble containing his shock on that fateful day the Warrior of Light announced their defection to Garlemald.

The doors echoed open, an unexpected distraction from the swirling thoughts that had taken hold of his mind ever since his last encounter in Doma. The Champion of the Savages had finally proven to be a worthy opponent, and oh did it  _ excite _ him so. How many times had he re-enacted their battle within his mind, watching each and every movement in their deadly, beautiful dance? He craved their next encounter, and had been planning for the perfect finale — even now, the XIIth were hauling the eikon to him…

But as the footsteps came closer to his throne in the Ala Mhigan palace, his eyes widened. Flanked by a number of helmeted foot soldiers, faceless and utterly meaningless compared to who they were escorting, was that selfsame warrior who dominated his thoughts. 

They stopped some yalms away from where he yet lounged, his legs crossed and head resting on his fist as he regarded his rival.

The silence in the expansive throne room was deafening, each second an eternity as they stared each other down. One of the guards finally cleared their throat, a nervous, hesitant utterance.

“Err… My lord, the Warrior of Light has requested an audience,” he said, the man’s voice wavering ever so slightly.

“An audience?” The legatus raised an eyebrow. Had he heard his underling correctly? Or had his mind offered him repose from the ever blazing flames of his dreams? “Go on.”

* * *

The mood in Porta Praetoria had darkened considerably that morning, and little enthusiasm remained within the Resistance forces stationed at their new base of operations. How could there be when their beacon of hope had disappeared into the night? Their ray of light had been snuffed out, had abandoned them to the whims of fate. And that fate now seemed very grim, indeed.

As the rank and file fell into a fit of melancholy, the Scions deliberated amongst themselves, attempting to somehow decide upon their next course of action. When had they come to rely on their champion to the point of everything collapsing without them? Had it been the assault on the Praetorium? The banishment of Nidhogg from this mortal coil? Or had it been well before that, when the first primal fell at their hands?

Regardless of the circumstances, the need for the Warrior of Light’s cooperation had become far greater than any of them had ever realized. And now that they were gone, into the arms of their enemy no less, the group’s despondency only grew with each passing moment. 

It was Alphinaud who had discovered the letter in their quarters. His morning ritual involved waking his comrade to join the others in breaking their fast, and this was the first time in ages that he had received no response to his summons. His curiosity piqued, he gave a second round of knocks, listening intently for any movement inside. Yet again, there was only silence to answer him.

The young Elezen internally debated whether or not to let the poor sod rest — after all, their relentless push toward the capital of Ala Mhigo had left everyone in a state of utter exhaustion, not to mention their unfortunate dealings with one of the Ananta tribe’s summonings. It was undeniable how much of the work had fallen to their champion. But as always, they had remained steadfast and silent, pushing forward through the strife with a smile, their thoughts enigmatic as ever.

In the end, he nervously tried the handle, and was surprised to find the door unlocked. Ever so slowly he pushed it open, unwilling to wake his comrade if they still slumbered.

The room was empty, the bed perfectly made and nothing seemingly out of place. Or, at least, it appeared that way until Alphinaud spotted a singular letter and quill that yet remained on the small, wooden desk.

Anxiety rising in his chest, he approached the desk, gently picking up the parchment and breaking the seal. His eyes widened as he read and reread the short missive — it absolutely couldn’t be true, could it? It must have been forged, it had to be. And yet, it was  _ their _ seal,  _ their  _ hastily scrawled handwriting.

_ “After much consideration, I have chosen to join the Garlean contingent in Ala Mhigo. I felt it was the best option when considering my personal objectives. _

_ Pray forgive me, Alphinaud, and send my best regards to everyone. I wish not to see your faces upon the battlefield.”  _

They knew he would be the first to discover it, and it felt as if someone had driven a dagger into his chest. Why did it have to end this way? Why couldn’t they at least have given a proper farewell? Did these two years, these trials and tribulations, mean nothing to them? Why, why, by the Twelve  _ why _ ?

For the first time since his failures with the Crystal Braves, Alphinaud cried, a quiet whimper as he fell to his knees in the center of the long abandoned room.

* * *

As he left them to their own devices in their temporary chambers, Zenos considered his options. It would not be long before word reached the imperial capital, and his father would invariably be intrigued by the news. Why keep them in Ala Mhigo for much longer when they would single-handedly crush rebellions in other provinces simply by showing their face? He could see it now — their visage on a myriad of propaganda pieces, meant to destroy the hopes and dreams of any would-be insurrectionist. The Warrior of Light fights for  _ Garlemald _ , and not to free the likes of savages.

But that was not what  _ he  _ desired. Nay, the Champion of the Savages was  _ his _ , Garlemald and its machinations be damned. And he would have his prey to himself, no matter the cost.

It mattered little that he would bring the ire of the emperor upon him. This opportunity was not to be wasted. Even if it required him absconding into the night with his quarry, locking them into perpetual conflict, each passing second one of bliss until blood flowed as beautifully as the Ruby Sea.

Zenos smiled to himself as he strode down the hallway, armor clanging with each and every step. How marvelous the days ahead of him would be, his only friend finally at his side.


End file.
